Past the Veil
by Rotting-Fruit
Summary: AU: Sirius Black falls through the Veil at the Department of Mysteries and wakes up in the past. His friends are alive. What does he do? How can he protect them this time from the evil he knows is coming? Warnings: Slash, swearing.
1. Past the Veil

_AN: Yes, I have another story I should be working on, but sometimes the muse works better with more pressure? I have no muse. *Sobs*_

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter.

**Chapter 1**

**Past the Veil**

* * *

He was falling.

"Sirius, no!"

He glimpsed the widened eyes of his godson - horror and disbelief evident in the vibrant green. The feathery wisps of the veil brushed across his body, enveloping him in an inky darkness that pervaded his senses - blinding him, drowning him. Sirius instinctively flailed his arms in an attempt to grasp at anything that could stop his descent. It was useless. The darkness pulled him in with its tendrils.

The deranged laughter of Bellatrix Lestrange, his assailant, followed him down, echoing around him. A tremendous pressure assaulted Sirius' body, and he felt he would be ripped to shreds.

He was going to die.

The blood in his veins turned to ice. His descent slowed, and the pressure lessened. The laughter around him was muffled to the extent that it sound as if his dear cousin Bellatrix were cackling into a pillow. He was falling through water. Thick sludge, more like. Despair washed over him, aching his heart. A body engulfed him, caressing him the way the wisps of the veil had. The tighter the body clutched Sirius, the colder, more despaired he felt. Despite his odd free-fall, Sirius sobbed. The body spun him around.

A dementor.

He could not see through the blackness, but he knew. Sirius was facing a dementor.

He screamed, scrambling in a mess of limbs to free himself from the clutches of the vile creature. The dementor held him fast in its bindings. Sirius was unable to turn away. More dementors surrounded him and the one who held him bound. They hovered close, circling like giant vultures over prey. The air around them hung heavily - rank with decay and maliciousness. Sirius struggled for breath.

The dementors stopped their unnerving dance. A bell seemed to have gone off somewhere for them. They clustered. As one dark unit, the dementors _inhaled_.

Sirius screamed.

Pain filled his head as memories were sifted through and ripped from his mind at breakneck speed. Flashes of scattered memories passed behind his eyes. He felt the loss of every memory as any good feeling was drained from him. His body shook in agony.

_"Let's go play now, Siri. Mother is gone for the afternoon." The blue-eyed boy grinned. "You promised you'd catch a gnome."_

_"Hello. My name's James. James Potter." _

_"Sirius Black."_

_"Black? You one of that horrible lot?"_

_"Yeah. But only in name."_

_Remus laughed. "Animagus? I should be mad. I really should, but I'm floored - gobsmacked. And teary - very teary."_

_"Go out into the world. It may be big. It may be mean. Most of the time it is unfair. However, remember never to give up. Do not measure yourself by your shortcomings. You are worth more. And make lots of friends Eat lots of sweets. You can never have too many of either." Dumbledore smiled. "Congratulations, Class of 1978."_

_"I did it. I asked Lily."_

_"And?"_

"_She said yes!"_

_"Can there really be more than one best man?"_

_"Why not?"_

_The baby was pink and wrinkly. "This a baby or a prune?"_

_"Shut it, Padfoot." The bespectacled man grinned. "He's Harry. Harry James Potter."_

_"You're the godfather. If you want t-" _

_"Of course! I'll teach him all the tricks..." _

_Lily shifted the babe in her arms. "You would have regardless."_

_"I'm Harry. Harry Potter."_

Blood pounded in Sirius' ears. His limbs were heavy. Every breath he took was laboured and his chest ached from the effort. The despair washing over him was crushing. Guilt and sorrow reached up from his stomach and constricted his throat. The breaths he took were becoming increasingly harder to take.

"Oh, Harry," he cried, weakly.

Tears leaked from his eyes. He could not stop the choked sobs. The dementor restraining him leaned closer. Sirius was sure he could see its face, yet he could not. The dark creature drew an icy hand down the side of Sirius' face. The action was almost like a show of tenderness despite the clumsiness.

Sirius's eyes clouded over.

The dementor leaned in for the kiss.

He awoke with a start. He thrashed, trying to free himself from the dementor's hold. Gasping for breath, Sirius tumbled out of bed in a tangle of bedsheets.

"'s the matter, Padfoot?" said a voice, thick with sleep.

Sirius remained motionless on the floor. His heart thumping hard in his chest. The white glow of a silently cast_ lumos_ blinded Sirius for a minute. A bleary-eyed Harry Potter hung over the edge of a bed, wand loosely pointed in Sirius's direction.

"Huh?" Sirius look confusedly from the yawning boy to the offending bedclothes with which he had been wrestling. He cast the sheets aside and scooted backwards until his back hit the bed he had fallen out of.

"Padfoot?"

Sirius did not know where to begin. He looked at his hands, twisting the bedsheets.

"I - uh. Dementors. Falling," he rambled. His eyes were wide and dilated, and his breaths came out in ragged huffs. He looked up to Harry. The boy started slightly at the tortured look in his friend's eyes.

Harry slid off the bed and clambered over to Sirius. He wrapped an arm around Sirius' shoulders.

"It's alright," he began, his voice low and gravelly. "Everyone dreams about falling and - "

"I was dead," Sirius said, his voice flat. Small tremors shook his frame.

"Oh - "

"I'm supposed to be dead."

Harry's shock registered on his face for a second before he shook his shaggy-haired head -_ Wasn't it shorter?_ - adamantly in dissent.

"NO. You're not," he hissed, harshly. "That barmy Slytherin couldn't keep you down for a day much less kill you."

Had Bellatrix not succeeded in her attempt to rid the world of Sirius Black? His head hurt. Sirius opened his mouth to say something , but Harry continued on.

"You shouldn't have to feel guilty. It was a joke." Harry scratched his socked foot with his wand, making the glow from the tip flicker. "Should take the stick out of his arse, he should."

Sirius frowned.

"It's all fine now. Don't worry about Remus. He'll come around," Harry sighed. "Sooner or later."

Sirius' head pounded. It was impossible for him to wrap his mind around anything. Where was he? What did Harry mean about Remus? Bile rose in his throat. The wretchedness he had felt with the dementors washed over him like an icy shower. He shuddered and hunched over. He groaned pitifully as he resisted the urge to vomit.

"Padfoot?" Harry's concerned voice floated to him through the blackness that threatened to take over his consciousness. "Sirius, what's wrong?"

Sirius swayed where he sat. Forcing his eyes open, he tried to focus on the face of the one next to him without success. Everything was fuzzy.

"Harry?" he said, uncertainly.

The silence that followed was pronounced, and Sirius vaguely wondered what was amiss.

"Harry?" he tried, again.

"N-no. It's James. James Potter."

_Oh._ Sirius let his eyes fall shut.

"Remus! Wake up! There's something wrong with Sirius."


	2. I must be Dead

**Chapter 2  
**

**I must be Dead  
**

* * *

The smell of antiseptic filled Sirius' nostrils, jabbing the sensitive nerves in his brain. Wincing slightly, he opened his eyes only to be immediately met with the blinding light of day. He threw his forearm over his eyes in hopes they would adjust quickly. He was on a bed again. That much he was certain. The events from the time he was hit with Bellatrix's stunner to now with him shielding his eyes from daylight were hazed. He sunk lower into the sheets, reveling in the cool crisp feel of them. Ah, he'd sort it all out in a minute.

"Oh! Mr. Black, you're awake." The woman's voice was soft but stern. Sirius snapped his eyes open, blinking rapidly.

"Sit up whenever you're ready and I'll help you with some soup."

The woman bustled closer to Sirius' bed. He stiffened. She was dressed in hospital matron robes. Her back was turned to him as she fussed with the items on cart before her. Brown frizzy hair stuck out from her otherwise neat bun. Recognition stirred in Sirius' head. He squinted, trying hard to place the woman. He huffed. His brain simply refused to cooperate.

"Dory?" called the woman.

With a _pop! _a house elf, too short for Sirius to see while lying on the bed, appeared at her side.

"What can Dory do for Misses?" said the elf.

"Would you let the headmaster know that Mr. Black is awake?"

Sirius jumped. _The headmaster? Dumbledore? _He would surely know what had happened. Sirius sat up, ignoring the lightheaded feeling that threatened to cloud his vision. He looked around. His stomach sunk as he realized that he was in the hospital wing. Sirius Black was a fugitive. He could not be seen in public much less a school brimming with children. He watched the matron from the side of his eyes. She did not seem to be troubled by his presence. The fact that she had not taken off screaming for aurors was a good albeit strange sign. Even the most stoic and composed Minerva McGonagall was wary around him. Sirius might not have betrayed his friends, the Potters, but he did spend a good chunk of his life shut away in the most dreadful of places, Azkaban.

"Something wrong, child?"

The woman stuck her face close to Sirius', peering into his eyes. Sirius leaned back in alarm and clutched the bedsheets to his chest. The woman _tsked_ and turned her attention to the cart once more.

"You'll need something in you before I can continue the assessment," she stated, turning back to Sirius with a bowl of something steaming in her hands.

"Eat up."

_Assessment?_ Sirius frowned. His bloody head hurt. There was no need for more assessment than that. He took the offered bowl. The matron rolled her cart away, leaving Sirius to finish his meal. He sipped slowly, eyebrows drawn together in concentration. The soup warmed his body and he felt infinitesimally better. Plus, it was delicious.

Sirius nearly dropped his bowl when the doors to the infirmary burst open and three boys tumbled into the room.

"Boys! Behave yourselves!" scolded the matron, hands on her hips.

"Sorry ma'am," murmured the boy with sandy-brown hair as he tugged on the arm of one of the other boys, helping him up.

Sirius gaped. The boys, looking sheepish, inched their way in Sirius' direction. Sirius did not know what to think. He was looking at Harry Potter and... Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, both young. Sirius' mouth worked like a fish's. Unable to articulate a syllable, he stared at the each member of the trio, his eyes wide. Once the matron turned away from them, Harry - no, not Harry. James - dashed the rest of the way to Sirius' bed.

"Dumbledore's coming down," he said, quietly. The messy-haired boy looked around the room. He spotted his target - a wooden chair - and dragged it over to the bed with Sirius staring all the while. Remus Lupin gently took the bowl from an unmoving Sirius and placed it on the bed-stand. He took a seat at the foot of the bed. Peter hung around, looking out the windows.

"Dumbledore's going to start an investigation most likely," James balanced the chair on its back legs. "Snivvy's going to get what's coming to him. Using Dark Magic, the swine."

"Come on, James," said Remus. "I told you it can't have been Dark Magic."

Sirius snapped to attention. "What?" he asked.

"You didn't see the way Sirius was last night," James allowed the chair to fall forward. He rested his elbows on his knees. "He was - It was scary, Remus."

"I know it was," said Remus, looking down. "I'm just saying it can't have been Dark Magic."

"Maybe the git figured out how to -"

"Somebody tell me what the hell's going on!" said Sirius, exasperated.

He looked from Remus to James. Blood rushed to his face.

"You don't remember?" asked James, eyebrows shooting up.

Oh yes, he did remember. He remembered _everything_. However, he did not think that was what this James apparition was asking. Sirius decided to keep his worries to himself for the time being. _"It would not do to be reckless," _he thought, wryly.

"No."

James shot a worried look at Remus.

"Well, you remember last night?" Remus shifted so that he was more or less facing Sirius. Concern was etched on his face. "You had a fit and passed out."

"It was more of a breakdown sort of," added James. "You were crying and shaking and bloody cold."

"And I passed out?"

"Yeah," James rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, but you babbled a bunch before that. Like how you were dead - or supposed to be, rather. Damn scary."

Remus looked surprised at that declaration.

"Why would you say that?" Remus asked.

Sirius was lost in thought. Here he was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts with the youthful versions of his friends and no one seemed to think anything was amiss. The friends he remembered were gone. One was dead. One was a werewolf ostracized by most of the wizarding world and too uncertain about most things. One was the traitor who betrayed them all. But here they were alive, without scars and unbroken. The urge to leap from his bed and smother James in a crushing hug was compelling, yet the urge to run from the infirmary in terror was just as strong. As much as he would have liked it to be true, the situation was implausible even by wizarding standards. Perhaps he had hit his head and was hallucinating. But he could not remember ever having such detailed scenes in his hallucinations and he did have more than his share of twisted visions. He must be dead and this was a sort of heaven. _Or hell_.

"Sirius?"

"Oh," Sirius blinked. "I, uh, don't know. I was out of it, I guess."

Remus looked unconvinced.

"I'm really sorry." he said. "I know the Whomping Willow thing was supposed to be a prank and I should have forgiven you sooner. Please don't feel guilty anymore, Sirius."

"Uh- thanks," Sirius squinted.

"So you said Dark Magic?" said Sirius, tentatively. James' eyes glinted.

"The greasy git. He cursed you to pieces a few days ago, remember?" said James. "You came back to the tower all beaten up."

Sirius remained silent, hoping he would continue.

Remus nodded. "You hadn't come to see Madam Pomfrey even though I kept insisting."

Something clicked in Sirius' brain. He remembered. A week had passed since the incident at the Whomping Willow. He had gotten out of that with ease, luckily enough. However, the bad blood between him and certain Slytherin seemed to grow thrice-fold. Severus Snape had caught him alone on his way to the kitchens and what had started out as a sneering contest turned into the Slytherin loosing his marbles and blasting Sirius with hexes until Sirius could not stand anymore.

Sirius had forgone going to the infirmary for what was mostly blisters from strong stinging hexes, cuts from some sort of strange cutting curse and sorely wounded pride. The sight of Sirius shuffling around for days had been enough to have Remus speaking to him and when Sirius mentioned just who was responsible for his state, the werewolf had written off Sirius' misdeeds completely. Remus may have kept insisting that Sirius should have sought medical attention, but his injuries simply had not warranted the visit.

"You think Snape's the cause?" he asked, unsure. "Madam Pomfrey said it was Dark Magic?"

"No. She didn't find much of anything last night. Said she would look you over again today."

"Then?"

"Then what?" snapped James. "It had to have been the git. Unless you've been taking things you shouldn't of?" James raised an eyebrow.

"Naw," Sirius laughed.

"Come on now. You two be serious," chastised Remus.

"I am," said Sirius with a smile. Remus rolled his eyes.

The door to the infirmary opened once more. The headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, stepped into the room, looking very much out of place with his glossy teal robes and pointed hat. Nodding once to Sirius and his group, the timeless old man disappeared into the matron's office.

"Wonder what he'll do to Snivvy," remarked James, staring at the door Dumbledore had gone through.

Sirius wondered as well, but it was not about what punishment Severus Snape would receive for something he probably did not do. Yes, he did batter Sirius, but was he responsible for sticking him in a time that was not his own? The bat was not capable of that caliber of magic. Sirius grew nervous at the impending meeting with Dumbledore. From what Harry had said about his occlumency lessons, Sirius knew Dumbledore was quite skilled in the craft's counterpart, legimency. What would the old wizard see in Sirius' mind? Would he think that the Sirius Black before him was an imposter? Or that he had gone mad? Sirius took a deep breath. Dumbledore might not even look into his mind at all.

If he played his cards right, Sirius could misdirect all the unwanted scrutiny onto Snape, especially if he were to have another breakdown. He sat back into the pillows. He would have to find a way back. To Harry. Sirius looked at James. The pain of his friend's death had never ever lessened. It had not for Remus either. Life was wretched back where he came from. Maybe... if he couldn't go back, he could stay. And make sure everything turned out good - the first time around.


	3. Wool over the Eyes

**Chapter 3**

**Wool over the Eyes**

* * *

"Ah! Sirius," exclaimed Dumbledore, ambling towards the group. "How are you feeling, my boy?"

Sirius looked at the headmaster and smiled slightly knowing the man's sense of fashion would not change much in the coming decades. He met the headmaster's eyes briefly - long enough to not seem guilty of anything. Sirius wanted to keep his little tumble through time to himself for as long as he could. Having noted the vibrant blue and the familiar twinkle that would give comfort everyone he knew, Sirius wished that was not the case. He wanted to trust Dumbledore and he was sure the man could be trusted, but deep down his mind was having none of it. Azkaban had ruined him. Sirius' stomach flipped.

"Professor," he said with as much amicability as he could muster.

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Would you boys mind leaving Sirius and I? I understand if you'd rather not attend lessons while your friend is ill, but I believe the two of us have things to discuss."

James nodded in acknowledgment, and the three boys made their way out of the infirmary with Peter muttering about transfiguration homework all the way. Sirius kept his gaze trained on their departing backs as he tried to calm down. _Remember answer everything, but don't say everything._

"Mr. Potter has told me quite a tale surrounding your incapacitation." Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles. "An altercation between Mr. Snape and yourself being the cause?"

Sirius nodded. He was having a hard time not looking into the man's eyes. _Just how does legilimency work, now?_ He took a deep breath. _Then again, would old man use it willy nilly on students?_

"He cornered me on the way to the kitchens, professor. Not quite a week ago." Sirius looked straight at the headmaster. "Started firing away at me - like a madman, really."

"According to Madame Pomfrey, you have no physical injuries." The old wizard tugged at his beard in a manner suggesting contemplation. He sat down in the chair that James had been occupying. "But something did happen to you last night. Madame Pomfrey describes it as 'a fit of sorts'."

Sirius nodded again.

"I don't remember much," he said, slowly. "I was freezing and seeing these - well, I don't remember exactly - horrid images. I felt awful. Like something evil was trying to... hurt me."

Sirius hunched his shoulders. He hoped he looked pitiable enough. Snape would most likely get into a ton of trouble for Sirius' words, but he could not scrape up sympathy within himself to actually care for what might happen to the git.

"Do you know what spells Mr. Snape used on you?"

"Uh..." Sirius racked his brain. He needed something plausible. "Well, he did fire one after the other quite _fast_ and he never _said_ anything out loud..."

Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly.

"... but I know some were stinging hexes." Sirius fiddled with the bedsheet, pretending to be embarrassed. "There was a curse that cut me though. I don't think I've ever seen one like it before."

Dumbledore's face grew grim. He leaned forward.

"Go on," he urged.

Sirius _whooped_ a little on the inside. Sirius was certain that Snape had made up curse himself, so even if the headmaster were to search Sirius' - or Snape's - mind for evidence of the attack, he would see no disparities but would still be suspicious of Snape's unknown curse.

"Well, it made lots of cuts... and it felt like something was oozing into them, you know?" Sirius shook himself in a fake shudder. "I don't remember getting back to the common room after that."

Dumbledore placed a hand on Sirius' shoulder to comfort him.

"Why didn't you visit the infirmary when you realized you were injured?"

Sirius sat up straighter, puffing out his chest.

"Sir, I'm a Gryffindor. What's a few cuts?" Sirius shook his head as if the idea of getting treatment were preposterous. "Nothing seemed to be wrong until last night."

Dumbledore _hmm'ed_ and stood up.

"I honestly do not put it past Mr. Snape to act in such an underhand manner," he said, softly. "However, I'm truly sorry, Sirius. I cannot reprimand him appropriately for this without risking him using Remus Lupin's condition to defend his actions."

Dumbledore turned his hands, palm up. "I'm really sorry."

Dumbledore's voice was laced with regret; however, Sirius could not care less about Snape and his punishment or lack of one. Sirius simply wanted out of the infirmary so he could ascertain his next steps. It seemed as if Dumbledore had taken his hints of the Slytherin's predilection the way Sirius had hoped he would. While he seemed to be above scrutiny for the moment, Sirius knew that he had keep his mouth shut and remain indiscriminate. It would not do for him to get thrown into St. Mungo's - crazy or not.

"It's alright, sir," Sirius said, quite honestly. "I wouldn't want to get my friends hurt."

Belatedly, Sirius wondered whether that would have been the "right" thing to say as his younger self.

Dumbledore smiled. "I thought you would understand."

Apparently, it was. Sirius pressed his lips into a line and nodded.

"Sir, when can I leave? I feel fine now."

"I think," the headmaster began, eyes twinkling, " you'd have to ask Madam Pomfrey about that."

Right on cue, the matron strode out of her office, pushing her cart of bottles.

"Ah! Madam, it seems one of your patients would like his consensus," the headmaster chuckled, turning to leave. "Take care, Mr. Black. Do not worry. I'll keep an eye on Mr. Snape."

Sirius sat back into the pillows, exhaling loudly. He barely heard the matron's prattle about eating and taking it easy for a while. Madam Pomfrey. Of course it was her. She had been nurse when he was a student - the one who helped look after Moony. She was still serving as Hogwart's mediwitch in the time he had left behind. Sirius had only seen the woman a few times after his escape from Azkaban, but then she had seemed much much older than she should have. Yet, hadn't the war aged them all? Madam Pomfrey's hair may have greyed completely, but her eyes and ears had been sharp as ever.

"Sirius Black! Are you listening?"

Sirius jumped.

"Y-yeah. Eat food. Sleep."

The matron shook her head in exasperation.

"Pay attention to your body. Tell someone as soon as you notice something wrong," she said. "The tests were inconclusive but we can't dismiss the possibility that you might fall ill again."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, I'm going to let you leave, Mr. Black." She handed him a note with a date and time written on it. "Come back the day after next for another assessment. I've written it down."

"Okay..."

"So you shan't forget."

"Yes..."

"I mean it, Mr. Black. You won't be able to weasel out of it."

"Shucks."


End file.
